


small fics from tumblr

by requestables (orphan_account)



Series: tumblr requests; beatles [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Smut, Tumblr Prompt, tumblr requests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-20 16:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/requestables
Summary: Some prompts/requests I've received on Tumblr :) My Tumblr is @bittermacca. Requests are currently closed.





	1. Deep Kisses

**mazzy410:**

24, idk if ive sent that one before? mfjfj its great

**24: Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer.**

* * *

John’s hands found themselves in Paul’s soft hair, lips desperately moving against the younger’s as he tugged very lightly. He relished in the quiet noise that escaped Paul’s throat, smirking against his lips. The kiss lasted a moment before they had to pull away, instantly diving back in for another kiss, this time Paul’s hands were in John’s hair.

Both tugged on one another’s hair to pull them back in when they had to pull away for air, bodies staying together like magnets, like the other was their only life source, like they’d die without the other.

Perhaps, in a sense, they would.

Paul’s body followed John’s as John moved back a little, back arching towards the older’s as he did so, needing need to feel the sensation of being pulled closer, being needed, and needing someone so much it _hurt_.


	2. Little Paul

**anonymous:  
**

I had sent an ask for maybe a little Paul fic, is it gone then ;; I would have appreciated some good old angst and comfort for this lil boy ;;

* * *

Paul choked out a loud sob, eyes darting from place to place in his dark bedroom, and though he couldn’t see a lot, what he could see morphed into things they weren’t.

There was a monster in the corner of the room, hand outstretched to the side, by the wall, and it was staring at him, awaiting his next move. It was watching his every move. Paul shivered.

He pulled the blankets up and over his head, curling up underneath the heap of soft blue and pink blankets he’d acquired over the years, the heat making his head thump loudly and everything outside of them sound muffled, including the wind. He could hear the wind through the slightly open window, and because it was muffled it sounded more like a ghost. Now there were ghosts in his bedroom?

A monster and a ghost?

In his bedroom?

This was not a good night.

His sobs only became louder and he pulled one of his stuffies inside the blankets with him, cuddling it close to his quickly rising and falling chest.

He didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear footsteps approaching him and didn’t hear his name being called, and he didn’t realise John was in the room with him. The light was on, he noticed through the blankets, the dim light infiltrating through the mass of them, making his pale skin look all shades of pink, blue and green.

The blankets were slowly pulled off of him, and Paul braced himself. If the monster was going to kill him, he’d never get to say goodbye to Ringo, to George, to John; he’d be killed without getting to say goodbye. He didn’t want that. He began crying louder.

Someone shushed him, a soft, gentle voice, not one belonging to a monster, but a voice belonging to his best friend; his daddy. John was there. John was hugging him, now, he could tell as he opened his eyes and saw the older there, sat on the bed with him.

“Daddy, there are monsters!” Paul managed to get out through sniffles and hiccups as he was pulled into John’s lap, facing him. John looked at his tear stricken face and wiped away the tear tracks, thumb gently caressing his skin in a comforting way, shaking his head.

“Daddy got rid of them, baby boy, you’re safe.”

And Paul fell asleep in John’s arms, safe and sound with the person he loved more than anybody in the whole entire world. He was _safe_.


	3. Bracelet

**anonymous: **

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” mclennon ? (I cant send ya asks on the other blog tumblr is being bitchy...)

**33: "I can’t believe you did this for me.”**

* * *

John and Paul were in Strawberry Fields, Paul up against a tree while John and he kissed softly between soft giggles in the dim moonlight. They couldn’t do this during the day; people would see them and they could get arrested.

“I love you, Paulie,” John pressed a kiss to his cheek and pulled something from behind his back, a small square velvet box, deep purple, and gave it to him shyly. He blushed as he watched Paul open it, his eyes widening in… happiness? Maybe he hated it? Maybe he was going to leave him?

“**I can’t believe you did this for me!** I love it!” Paul threw his arms around John’s neck, hugging him close and smiling against his neck, “I love you too.”

When they pulled away from the hug, Paul put the bracelet on his wrist. It was mostly black, small leather ropes tied and twisted together to form the base, three purple gems glistening in the light and the colour complimenting his eyes. The black contrasted his skin beautifully and fit his wrist _perfectly_.

It was _perfect_.

“I thought that you’d hate it, or leave me, I-” John’s worries were cut off by Paul’s lips against his once more, silencing him and relieving him of all those insecurities he had deep down inside, soothing him.

“I’ll never leave you, Johnny. I love it, and I love you.”


	4. Warm Embrace

**anonymous:  
** Can we have some poly beatles ?? I love the poly beatles you did on ao3 ❤! It was just so great... but like... they are so few of them.... and need more, I just want some fluffy angsty fluff poly boys... pls could you do that for me???

thanks so much grygyugtyy i'm so happy you like them! i made this pure fluff as i'm in a fluffy mood rn so sorry for not making it angsty! 

* * *

Ringo was sat on the sofa, idly watching the television. He wasn’t exactly focused on it when he could be focused on George and Paul, who were sat on the floor, cross-legged, in front of him, booping one another’s noses and giggling. The two looked bloody adorable and the eldest could not take his eyes off them.

Paul’s eyes were glistening with happiness and tears of laughter, while George looked calmer, looking at Paul with adoration and love.

They were both gorgeous. They were also both very oblivious that John was creeping up behind Paul, ready to scare him, and Ringo smiled.

John squeezed Paul’s waist, where he was very ticklish. Paul squealed, startled, and then began giggling loudly with delight; he twisted in John’s arms as they wrapped around him, facing him. Paul’s own arms snaked around John, pulling him in close to his body, cuddling him.

George joined in on the hug and was invited into the warm embrace instantly, Paul between him and John, making all three of them laugh and blush red. Ringo laughed along with them, too, and turned off the telly, standing up. He kneeled next to the heap that were his boyfriends and was also instantly sucked into it, adding to the chaos.

Paul was still giggling while the others listened on, smiling at how happy he was, relishing in the sound of his gorgeous laughter, “Macca?” John said, kissing Paul’s forehead.

“Yeah, Johnny?”

“You’re adorable,” He continued, kissing Paul’s cheeks and then his lips, hearing another giggle come from him.

“I love you all,” Paul, _their _Paul, spoke softly, almost a whisper; a dreamy smile finding its way to his face and making him look beautiful. He was always beautiful.

“Love ya too, Paulie.”

“You too, Macca.”

“You’re beautiful, Paul. You’re all beautiful. I love you all. Damn.”

Another eruption of giggles filled the silence that would have happened, and the four Beatles found comfort and love in one another, in their warm embrace.


	5. Kiss On The Top Of The Head

**anonymous:**  
mcharrison with A kiss pressed to the top of the head? Pls ?

* * *

“It’ll be fine, Georgie, okay?” Paul brushed George’s hair from his face, staring into his eyes as a source of comfort. John was a fucking asshole, Paul thought to himself, making George cry like this.

He’d gotten angry because he couldn’t get a chord right and shouted at George about it, though the youngest hadn’t done anything wrong, _“You can’t play the guitar, George, so you’ve no reason to be smiling!” _And now he was crying, seeking comfort from Paul, who was more than happy to be there for him. The younger had always been there for Paul during his times of struggle, now it was Paul’s turn.

“He- he hates me!” George sobbed, clenching his fist into Paul’s shirt, scrunching it up, “Maybe I should just quit, I-”

“No, George. You can’t. He was just angry. He didn’t mean it,” Paul quickly reassured, wrapping his arms securely around George and pulling him close, “Besides, if you left, who would I have? Hm? I don’t think _John _wants me _that _way.”

“I do, Paulie. Always.” His eyes were tired and wet, suddenly gazing up at Paul with such intensity that Paul had to sigh out loud, a small smile gracing his face.

“I know. I love you, Georgie, you’re okay.”

George sniffled and nodded, “Thank you.”

Paul placed a kiss on the top of George’s head, before placing another on his cheek, then his lips, reminding him that he was loved, that Paul would always be there for him, no matter what. That’s all he really needed. Paul.


	6. You Look Like You Need a Hug

**anonymous:**  
"You look like you need a hug" mcstarr

* * *

Paul rested his head on his hand, sighing deeply. He was tired, way to fucking tired; tired of John being a dick, of George turning on him, of all the pressure that was being put on them as a band, as mates.

He also felt a significant empty feeling in his chest, like someone had shoved their hand into his flesh and ripped his heart out, leaving him with nothing there. He couldn’t describe it even to himself other than ‘numb’ or 'empty’, and that scared him. It really did.

Groaning, he let his head fall onto the table below him, his arm giving out. His head made a loud thumping noise but he didn’t care, he only cared that maybe he could sleep, here, for the first time in three days, maybe he could get some _goddamn_ rest.

Of course nothing came to him easily, so he sat there, head on the table.

He didn’t hear anyone come in the room, didn’t feel a hand resting on his shoulder, though he did register the soft kiss placed on his cheek. Paul looked up and saw Ringo, the only one who loved him anymore, who looked up to him anymore, who could even bare to _look_ at him anymore, staring down at him with sadness.

And pity.

Paul would rather not be the one causing others to be pitiful, he was not weak, he was-

Yeah. He was weak. The realisation didn’t affect him as much as he thought it would, which honestly was the worst part about it. He wasn’t shocked; he accepted it.

Ringo pulled him out of his seat gently, as if he was delicate, made of glass, and whispered, “**You look like you need a hug**.”

_Yes! Yes, I do. Please! _Paul wanted to say, but the words would not form, instead a sob escaped him, and to his relief Ringo wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in.

Paul’s arms tiredly found themselves wrapping around the older in response, hanging loosely around his neck. This was all he needed, a hug, a source of comfort.

He sighed again, not because of the drowsiness, or the sadness, but because he was relieved.

At least _Ringo_ loved him.


	7. Spin The Bottle

**anonymous:  
**Would you write about a Mclennon kiss on a dare ?

* * *

The bottle in the centre of the large circle John and his friends had formed spun and spun, seeming like it’d never slow down; it was going, going, going. 

Perhaps he’d have to kiss Stu. He wouldn’t mind that, really, they had done it before. Besides, they were best friends which made it less awkward than it should have been. The older had nice lips, John mused.

Or maybe Pete. Pete, who he’d known for years, who didn’t have one single queer streak in him, with his lips to his? He’d probably refuse and accept the forfeit, which was to drink (not that many of them minded drinking, but they’d already had so much already).

Drinking was probably what led them to this childish game in the first place. Spin the bottle on John’s living room floor? He wasn’t sure who exactly had thought of the idea, but as the beer bottle spun and began slowing down, he didn’t exactly care. Maybe it was him who had thought of it with thoughts of Paul plaguing his mind, infiltrating his every coherent thought and turning it into a hazy mess of those beautiful doe-eyes and those gorgeous thighs-

He was fucked. Absolutely, utterly fucked.

He knew this when the bottle stopped spinning and landed on - of course, it did - Paul.

They shared a look, a look of _holy shit, holy fuck, do we have to? Is this really going to be our first kiss? _And, yeah, apparently it was going to be their first kiss, because John smiled softly, blushed, leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

It was open mouthed and hot, Paul’s mouth tasted like cider and cigarettes and his tongue was hot and heavy against his as they kissed. It was heated and lasted longer than all the other kisses, but above all it was fulfilling; satisfying. When they were forced to pull away for air and by the burning of watchful, judging eyes on them, John sighed in delight and sat back down. 

That wasn’t the last kiss they’d share.

(After the party, John pushed Paul against his living room wall and kissed him much softer, much more delicately, because fuck, this boy would be the death of him.)


	8. Stop Pretending You're Okay

**anonymous asked:**  
15\. “Stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not.” with mclennon??????

* * *

John watched Paul talk, laugh and nod along to what George was saying, catching him subtly glancing at the door every now and then, hands silently clapping under the table.

He did that while anxious or stressed, look for the nearest exit and clap his hands very softly so everyone was unable to hear it; it was just a… _Paul _thing. 

John began to feel annoyed when George carried on talking and making jokes while Paul was _obviously _not feeling good, while he was obviously not doing well for some reason; that reason, John told himself, he would find out. 

He tried not to pay too much attention to it, because, after all, he seemed to be enjoying talking to George. John’s thoughts shifted to why Paul was acting strange, like he was scared, or stressed, hell, even fucking _depressed. _He wanted to know, or he’d be thinking about it for months and not be able to stop thinking about it-

He looked back over at the table the two were sat at - George was gone?

John looked at the door, which had been opened, so he assumed George had gone out for a ciggie. He walked over to Paul and sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him closer and kissing his cheek soothingly. “Paulie? What’s wrong?” His voice came out soft and concerned, a tone that Paul had heard many times before.

“I’m,” Paul’s voice cracked, “I’m fine, John.”

“**Stop pretending you’re okay because I know you’re not!” **John’s tone changed to one of annoyance but he quickly gave Paul a look that said _I’m sorry, _pulling him closer; Paul leaned into him fondly.

“My mum… she died ten years ago today…” Paul’s voice cracked even more as he said this, and John looked at him, shocked - he did not expect that _at all. _

Instantly, he began to stroke Paul’s hair and whisper soothing things to him while he cried, because, after all, he was there for him forever. They’d been through the same thing, they were there for each other through it all, and as they shared a kiss, Paul felt as if it’d be okay.


	9. Tickle Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> do you remember  
the 21st night of september

**anonymous:**  
Having a tickle fight until you're breathless ! Poly Beatles? Poor ticklish Paul wouldnt survive

* * *

Paul squealed and giggled as John’s, Ringo’s and George’s fingers danced upon his skin all at once, squeezing softly at his hips every now and then; the noises that Paul made made his boyfriends beam.

Paul was just so adorable, especially while like this, squirming under their touch and letting out sounds of pure joy, his laughter contagious. John began laughing, too, watching the younger’s face scrunch up and then a wide smile spread across his pretty face, cheeks red and eyes squinting.

He laughed louder as Paul tries to fight back, trying to tickle them, too, but he failed, arms instantly trying to push their hands away from his sensitive skin, “I can’t- I can’t breath!”

His voice was high pitched and filled to the brim with bliss as their fingers did not cease their attack on him, instead moving faster to get him to squirm more, laugh louder.

Ringo relished in Paul’s reactions, the way he would throw his head back and giggle, arms and legs trembling; he was gorgeous, and he wished Paul could be as happy as he was now all the time, free from stress, all those responsibilities.

_Just_ Paul.

He decided to move onto George. He began tickling him mercilessly, exactly where he knew he was most sensitive, his thighs. Soon, the laughter of the four men filled the room as they all let go of their stress, anxieties, all that nonsense.

_This_ was The Beatles.


	10. Blanket

**anonymous:**  
Some fluffy little paulie wrapped in a big blanket. Just that. It's cute and everyone find it cute

* * *

Paul was wrapped in a large, fluffy, pastel blue blanket on the sofa. He was watching the latest Doctor Who episode and giggling softly at what The Doctor was saying, something that the others didn’t pay attention to. They were too busy looking at Paul with adoration and happiness. 

“Hey, lovie,” John moved from where he was stood to sit beside Paul on the sofa, stroking his hair softly, “You cold?” His voice was soft when he realised the younger was little. Paul began sucking on his thumb, nodding to answer John’s question along with a muffled _‘yes, daddy’ _\- he looked adorable. He looked _so _adorable, all wrapped up in the blanket.

Ringo and George stood behind John and cooed down at him, making soft awing noises as they watched Paul suck on his thumb, wrapped up all cosy and cheeks rosy; this was the purest sight they’d ever seen, and they never wished for it to end.

John gently pulled Paul’s thumb out of his mouth to replace it with a dummy, which he gratefully accepted and sucked on happily. 

John leaned forward and kissed the little’s cheek softly, and then the other, and then his forehead, and then his jawline, making Paul giggle and squirm under his lips, a gentle shade of red spreading across his face and down his neck. He laughed and laughed, though it was muffled, causing the others to coo even more.

The blanket wrapped around him was falling from his shoulders a little, showing his collarbones. John stopped kissing him to pull it back up and wrapping it back around his shoulders, so once again, only his head and face were free of it. His eyes were wide and his lips were still stretched into a smile around the pink dummy in his mouth, and George couldn’t help but wrap his arms around him as he moved from behind John to next to him. 

Soon, Ringo joined in, also hugging Paul’s blanketed body, a warmth spreading throughout them all. Then John joined in, the three hugging the little close.

Paul felt appreciated, loved and overall, very, _very _warm.


End file.
